Colors
by Juliet's Shadow
Summary: He held out his hand for me to take. I did as he motioned. I could see the young children sighing in disappointment, but continued to watch closely in anticipation for the next trick. *One Shot*


I stood in the green covered park, bits of purple and yellow flowers dotting the ground, spurting out of bits of brown. Mothers looked exhausted as they tried to call children away from the swing set, set off to the side in a light colored sandbox. Grandfathers pushed six year old children on bicycles, letting them go as the child rides without training wheels for the first time.

The warmth of the sunshine on my face was my only comfort, only friend, made me comfortable where I was. Teenagers, alone in a park, an unusual and, often, unwelcome sight. A five year old girl with blonde pigtails pointed at me. She said something to her mother. I ignored it. When she bounced up and down I ignored it. When she ran my way I ignored it. When she ran past me, my attention was captured.

They were awe-inspiring, with brilliant purple suits and top hats perched on their heads, hats so large I didn't doubt there was a circus underneath. The boys themselves were as colorful as their outfits. Underneath the large top hats, strands of carrot orange hair stuck out, covering their ears and back of their necks. Their eyes, though brown in color, were the brightest, most alive eyes I had ever seen. The boys had soft pink lips which were always pulled back into a smile, revealing a red mouth and strikingly white teeth.

Still, the boys were noting in comparison to the magic show they produced. Sparks of yellow, green, red and orange popped out of their wands and littered the pale blue that made the sky, making the fluffy, cotton-candy like clouds seem dull in the cerulean pool in comparison. With magic wands, the twins conjured tropical looking birds out of their hats and sent them into the sky. The ginger haired boy on the right seemed to ask for a volunteer, after they preformed for what seemed like uncountable blissful hours. In reality it was just a few perfectly blissful moments.

The children gathered around the two boys and raised their hands and jumped up and down. The two "searched" the audience for their volunteer until the one on the left "found" their lucky victim: me.

He held out his hand for me to take. I did as he motioned. I could see the young children sighing in disappointment, but continued to watch closely in anticipation for the next trick.

They made a large presentation to the audience, including sending golden sparks that formed a shimmering 'W' in the air, before exploding and raining candy down onto the children. They made a spectacle of turning my hair from its natural brown to blue, green, red, pink and back to brown. I'm in awe of how they managed this. It was a wonderful trick though. It was as if they were truly waving their wands and saying magic words.

The two boys turned to me and I could see their lips move. Their soft pink lips were so synchronized, it must have been rehearsed. Still, I couldn't understand. I couldn't focus on one of them, and the way they spoke was so fast I couldn't read their lips fast enough. It seemed as though they asked me a question. I couldn't respond. I was humiliated.

I ran. Past the lightness of the sandbox. Past the green of the grass on the park. Past the brown that made up the dirt patches. Past each yellow and purple dot that made up the flowering weeds, I ran. My feet pounded on black, passing stripes of yellow. I didn't see that flash of violent red. I didn't hear the honk of the horn. I didn't know to stop. The world was no longer colors; the world was black.

Funny how being deaf works. It doesn't feel like anything is missing from my life. I don't realize how much more dangerous it is for me in a world that is dependent on both sight and sound. Apparently, living in a world of absolute silence is impossible. Little things that make sound aren't there. There is no hum of the air conditioner, no creak of the chair, no sound of footsteps, no clicking of a keyboard. Just silence. I like to imagine being able to hear one day. I still do. A flash of red and it all seemed to end. The magicians are just that, magicians.

The world was devoid of color. Everything was black and white and every shade of gray in between. The children that were watching were being held back by their mothers. The grandfathers that once held the children's bikes ran to the houses by the park so the hospital could be informed of the accident. I was still. A black and white man came out of the now gray car to look and see what had happened. For some reason, I questioned if the magicians were really there.

I was sitting on a bench, what felt like hours later. The bench was red. It was the one little comfort in a black and white world. A single magician from earlier came towards me, a red balloon in his hand. He offered me his hand, when he came close to me. I suddenly understood. I was dead. So was he. On his balloon was the name Fred. This magical little balloon told me all I needed to know. He gave me his balloon to hold for a moment and pulled a gray, deflated balloon out of his pocket. With a flick of his wand, it started to float, turning a bright red. On the balloon it said Mariah. My name.

Fred took back his balloon before giving me mine. It was as if I had opened my eyes for the first time. Color filled the world, much like it had before I died, but each color was so much brighter, so much more real. It was like I'd never seen the color blue before, or green, or even orange! But red stayed exactly the same. Red was perfect. It didn't need to change. Red was the color I always imagined sound to be. Red was the color of the world I was hearing for the first time.

**This story was used with the theme "a story with no ****dialogue". I'm currently preparing for a contest, so please tell me how I did and what I could do to improve, but please tell me what you liked about it, too, so I know what strengths I have as well. Please and thanks!**

**-Juliet**


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